s quit the ship!" he shouted, before he would allow the boat to
shove off.

No one, we were assured, was left behind. It was time to be free of
her. Glad enough we were to pull away, and we soon had the satisfaction
of seeing the other three boats free of the ship and pulling out to sea.
Several of the crew of the boat had once belonged to the Syren.

"There goes the old girl. She deserved a better fate," they exclaimed,
as they watched the conflagration. "She keeps up her spirits to the
last, though," they added, as her guns were discharged one after the
other in rapid succession--some of them doing, I suspect, some damage on
shore, towards which their muzzles were pointed. We were saved the
trouble of destroying the transport, for by some means or other she had
caught fire, and before the enemy could get on board to put it out or to
save any of her stores, she had burnt to the water's edge. The enemy
kept popping away at us while we pulled off from the shore, for the
light of the burning frigate falling on the boats' sides made us
tolerably conspicuous targets. However, we kept the ship as much as
possible between us and the rebels, and as they were likewise not
particularly good shots, we escaped with a very trifling amount of
damage. Indeed, I should, before I had had experience in the matter,
have believed it scarcely possible that so much powder and shot could
have been expended with so small a result. One man got a flesh-wound in
the right arm, and another had his head grazed, while the boats were
struck not more than half-a-dozen times in all. Suddenly the firing
ceased. There was a perfect silence. Then the flames from the frigate
seemed to burn brighter than ever, and it appeared as if the whole
blazing mass was lifted bodily up into the air like a huge sky-rocket.
Fragments of masts and spars and planks darted above the rest, and then,
scattering around, very quickly again came hissing down into the water.
A deep groan escaped the bosoms of many of our men. There was no
cheering--no sound of exultation. An old friend had been destroyed;
they mourned for her, though they themselves had assisted in her
destruction. War, and what war produces, is at the best very horrid
work. I cannot, even now, think over all the havoc and destruction we,
as was our duty, were the means of producing, without feelings of regret
and shame.

It was nearly midnight when I got back to my craft. The signal was soon